Carter, Not Samantha
by Michelle Birkby
Summary: Set during Season 8, this story involves Jack, Fifth, Cassie and a proposal. Warning for language. Complete
1. proposal

It's a perfect day. He's in the park. The sky is blue, the grass is green, and nature is basically doing it's thing. The girl beside him is pretty and intelligent, no-one is currently trying to kill him, and Jack O'Neill has a sneaking suspicion he's happy.

"Ice-cream?" Cassie, his companion, asks. He nods, and offers to pay for it, and when the ice-cream seller refers to him as Cassie's dad, he feels an absurd flash of pride. She sees it, and smiles, and takes his arm, confiding and close, as Cassie has always been.

They walk a little further. Cassie is trying to explain the university course she will be doing. There's quarks, and protons and magnets, and he basically gets the gist of it. After all that time listening to Carter, he should be able to understand basic physics. But to make her laugh, he pretends to be dumb, and to make him laugh, she plays along, until she sees something over his shoulder, and her smile fades.

Jack turns, and looks around. She's looking in the children's play area. She's looking at a man, leaning forward, talking to a woman in pink.

It's so rare to see her in anything but BDU's that it takes a moment to realise it's Carter. He never envisioned her in pink. He doesn't think it suits her. Nevertheless, she shines, glowing, from across the park, and he wonders how he can have missed her till now. But she looks tense, and nervous, and then he sees why.

He's holding out a ring to her.

The son of a bitch, stalker, weirdo policeman is actually proposing to her. That's bad enough. What's worse is, she flings her arms round his neck, and says yes, and slips the ring on her finger.

Jack O'Neill's world is falling apart. He can feel it, in his gut, where his soul is in tatters. He's helpless, unable to move. He just stands there, staring across the park, at the woman he loves, who still doesn't see him. He'd known about Pete, but never known, never suspected it would come this far. Never known, never suspected it would kill him.

He tries to hold it together, for the sake of the girl by his side.

"This can't be happening." Cassie says, and Jack bends forward, hands on knees, and takes a deep breath. Then he runs his finger, roughly through his hair.

"It is."

"But she's supposed to be with you."

Jack turns to look at her. She's staring at him, squinting against the sun behind Jack, holding her long, wind-blown hair back from her face.

"Cassie, honey..." he starts to say, but she stops him.

"No. It's all wrong, all of it."

Then he looks around. Isn't the light a touch too bright? The sky a touch too blue? And isn't a rather wild coincidence that he should be here as Pete takes her away from him? And since when did Sam wear pink, anyway?

"This isn't real." He murmurs, and with that, he snaps back.

"No." Fifth said. "It wasn't. But I have plenty more, and we have time. I'll find a moment you believe, and then..." he leaned forward, to Jack, on the floor, in pain. "And then, I'll break you."


	2. Again

Jack couldn't remember how long he'd been there. He couldn't remember how he got there. He couldn't even remember if he had really seen the proposal, or whether it was something Fifth had cooked up. All he knew was, he had to stay in this reality. He had to maintain some semblance of sanity.

Because he also knew that this was the bastard who'd hurt Carter, and Jack was going to make him pay for that. As soon as he could stop lying on the floor in pain. And hallucinating. God, he hated the hallucinations.

"Your mind is more complex than I thought." Fifth mused. "Many, many layers, so much so deeply buried. It's difficult to reach. But I will." He said, confidentially, and through his half-closed eyes Jack saw the boy's hand reach out to him, and he just had time to swear before

It's a perfect day for a wedding. The sky is blue, the grass is green, and nature is doing it's thing. Jack would be happy, if he could. He's trying to fake it, and he's fooling almost everybody. But inside, he's crawled up into a tiny hole, dying.

Sam's wedding day. Not a good day, for him. Ecstatically happy for everyone else. Well, maybe not for Daniel, who's been looking confused a lot lately. Or Teal'c, who disapproves of Pete and shows it. But they're not around. Oh no. This is all Jack O'Neill's show, and he's hating every second of it.

He wishes he knew where his friends were. This is no time to be alone. Watching the woman you love, have loved, will always love, will and have died for, walking up the aisle on the arm of someone else. Why is he all alone here? Why is there no-one to help him, save him? Why does he have to watch this?

She looks beautiful. But then, she always has looked beautiful to him. In her BDU's, covered in mud, a gun in her hand. Crouched behind a barricade, blood dripping down her face, exhausted. On her third consecutive night awake, face pale, eyes shadowed, still working on the miracle he's demanded. Always, always, she has been the one beauty in his hidden, dark life.

He has lost her. She says the words that will bind her to this man for ever more. They all leave the church, one by one. She looks at him, as she passes by, and for her sake he smiles, but it feels bitter. But she nods serenely, and sweeps by, as if the two of them had never stood in a corridor, the barrier between them, their defences down.

And now, he's alone again.

And now the pain begins. The heavy twisting in his stomach. The sullen darkness sweeping through him. He cannot sit still, but he cannot move. For eight years he has loved her, and now he has lost her, and it's not just a wistful sadness, it's a heavy, deep mourning running through his life. There's nothing left for him to do with his life now, but wait for it end. Slowly, he leans forward, hands resting on his knees, breathing heavily.

"Jack."

He looks up, to see Cassie.

"You know this is wrong." She tells him.

"It happened, Cassie."

"No, it didn't." she says gently, walking forward, ethereal in the lavender bridesmaid's dress. "It won't, but you have to live."

"Cassie..."

"Shush. He wants you to give up, and die. But you won't, will you? Not my Jack. My mother and I both knew, only one thing would kill you."

"Losing Sam." He said, softly. The air around Cassie shimmers, and Jack is all too aware, all of a sudden, that Cassie is not like other children. Not entirely human.

"But you haven't. You never will. But you must survive this."

Jack looks around, at the church where his life broke, at the girl, glowing softly opposite him.

This is wrong, he knows.

"Bastard." He said, clearly. Fifth leaned into him.

"Why won't you just die?" Fifth asked, genuinely frustrated.


	3. Breaking Her

He has no idea how many fantasies Fifth has put him through. How many sick, twisted realities. He has seen Sam slip further and further away from, so far beyond his reach that he cannot imagine touching her. Fifth taunts him with a Sam married to Pete, happy with her life, leaving the SGC, living far away. And for moments, Jack believes it. Why should he not? He never truly believed Sam would ever be his. He always knew he would lose her. He just didn't expect it to hurt quite so much.

But always, as he's about to give up, Cassie appears. Drags him back to reality. To torture and pain, but a reality where he hasn't quite lost Sam, not yet.

"What is it you want, you twisted little shit-bag?" Jack asked. He was getting used to this now, and the little scenarios Fifth played out for him were shorter and shorter, as Jack figured out what was going on. He hadn't even needed Cassie to drag him out of the last one.

"I want you to admit it." Fifth said, calmly. Jack, lying on the floor, twisted his head so he could see the boy. He thought he saw, in the shadows, for a second, another figure, but it was gone when he looked closer. Melted into the wall.

"Admit what?" Jack asked. He was pretty sure he knew the answer, but he needed time to regain his strength. Then, once he was strong enough, he would rip the little fucker's head off. But first, he had to be able to stand up, and that seemed like a very remote possibility at the moment.

"I asked her, but she wouldn't tell me. All she would say was that it wasn't her fault. Well, I knew that." Fifth knelt in front of Jack. "Of course it wouldn't be her fault. All she had to do was tell me who's fault it was. That's all I needed."

"Nope, still not getting it." Jack said, lying back. He wished he was stronger then he looked, right now. Pains shot through his knee and back, and every time he moved his head, the room swam in front of him. And he could still swear there was something in the corner, a familiar figure.

"You left me behind." Fifth hissed. He pulled Jack's shirt up until Jack's face was level with his. "I helped you, and you left me behind." Spittle flew out of his mouth, and landed on Jack's face, but he couldn't move to wipe it away. Fifth was insane, and strong, and God only knew what he could do in this state. Sam had given no details of her torture in her report, but Jack was beginning to see how terrifying it must have been.

"I gave that order. Not her." Jack said, suddenly cold at the image of Sam in Fifth's hands. Why hadn't Sam told Fifth that? Saved herself all this?

"I know that. I'm not stupid." Fifth snapped, throwing Jack back down. "But I wanted her to tell me. She wouldn't. She kept on saying it wasn't her fault, but she never said a name. I knew, once she told me the name, your name, I'd broken her, but she wouldn't." Fifth voice had changed. No longer angry, now he was surprised, unsure of why Sam had done it. "Do you want to hear?" Fifth said, spinning round, quickly, facing Jack. Fifth waved his arm.

The room was silent for a second. Then the sound of Sam's sobbing filled the chamber. Jack winced. This hurt more than any of the fantasies. She rarely cried, he could only remember her doing it a few times, but this was more than grief. This was pain. She was sobbing in pain.

Then it got worse. Sam screamed. Sam, who never screamed, was screaming now. Crying and sobbing and begging Fifth to stop. She was shouting 'It wasn't my fault, not my fault!' but then the incoherent cries of pain came again.

She had been in agony. Her mind ripped apart by this man. She had insisted it wasn't her fault. Yet not once did she say 'Colonel O'Neill made me do it'. Not once. Jack's anger flooded through him. She hadn't had to save him, he would have been glad for her to say his name, to save herself, but here she was screaming, suffering. His weakness was gone. With an incoherent cry of rage, he stood up and launched himself at Fifth, intending to rip the Replicator son of a bitch right down to his individual components.

But Fifth anticipated him, and reached round, plunging his hand into Jack's mind. Jack faltered and fell, and then, blessedly, passed out.

He slept, thankfully dreamlessly. Once he thought he woke, and saw Carter peering at him, like a specimen, but when he woke up again, she was gone, and he thought it must have been a product of his pummelled mind. When he did wake, finally, Fifth was kneeling in front of him.

"Tell me why she didn't give me your name." Fifth asked, disinterestedly.

Jack swallowed dryly.

"I don't know." he croaked. Fifth reached into his mind again. Jack cried silently, and tried, ineffectually, to block the boy's hand, but it was no use. Fifth pulled his hand out again.

"You really don't know." he said, surprised. "But I need to know. You must have some idea."

Jack shook his head.

"You were there in her head, when I reached in. Hundreds of images of you. She tried to hide them, but her mind was full of you. Why?" Fifth asked, curious.

"No idea." Jack told him, his voice almost indistinct. Somewhere, some unconscious part of his mind stored away the precious knowledge that Fifth had just told him, but he was too tired and too battered to work out the implications of that just then.

"I gave her a relationship with the man she was having a relationship with in reality. But she refused to accept it. Would she have done if it had been you?"

"Why the hell do you want to know?" he asked, too worn out to think through what was being said to him. Fifth smiled a little.

"I want to know everything about her."

"Why?"

"Because I love her."

Jack stared at him in shock for a second. Then, much to Fifth's surprise, Jack threw back his head and laughed, loudly.


	4. Another one for the list

"Why are you laughing?" Fifth said, indignant, standing up. "It's not funny. Stop!"

"Another one for the fucking list!" Jack said, laughing so hard the tears were running down his face.

"Stop laughing. This isn't funny!" Fifth insisted, sounding more like a petulant boy every minute.

"Oh, I think it is." Jack said wiping away a tear. "Just to get this straight...who do you love?"

"Samantha. I love Samantha." Fifth said. Jack's face turned dark.

"That's right." Jack said, leaning forward, and the laughter had stopped now. His voice was harsh, and Fifth instinctively stepped back. "You love **Samantha**. You've barely met her twice, and one of those times you tortured her, but you love her."

"Yes." Fifth said uncertainly, stepping back. He was finally beginning to understand the images in Samantha's mind of this man as something dangerous.

"You, and Martouf, and Narim and even Pete, you all love Samantha." Jack said, standing up, leaning against the wall. "Sweet, gentle Samantha. All blue eyes and blonde hair, and a killer figure you can't disguise with BDU's. All soft and loving. An angel, Narim called her. Samantha the angel."

Fifth nodded.

"Well, not me." Jack growled, pushing himself off the wall, and limping towards Fifth. "I don't love Samantha. I love Carter. The woman who's as dangerous as hell if you screw with her. The one that'll lie, cheat and steal to get back someone she cares for. The one who doesn't rest, doesn't sleep, doesn't eat when she has someone or something to save. The one who can defeat super-soldiers, and replicators, and whatever other crap the universe has to throw at us. The one who's angry, and passionate. The woman that can lead an army, and force them to respect her. The one that the Gou'ald are scared of, and the Asgard need. The one who bleeds, and fights, and swears, and struggles and wins. The one who's coming here now to get me."

Fifth turned towards the door, as if expecting to see her there already. The door didn't open, but Jack was advancing upon him, shouting now. "Oh yeah, you can bet your shiny metal ass she's on her way here. Cos I know, and it's taken me a hell of a long time to learn this, but she leaves no-one behind. She's coming for me, and she'll rip apart anything or anyone that stands in her way, including you, and that's the woman I love. So you can keep your soft, fluffy, little Samantha. Because I love Carter!"

Fifth had no time to respond. Because at that moment, a shotgun blasted through his body. He turned, to see Sam standing there, in the doorway, a huge gun in her hands.

"Samantha." He said, reaching out to her.

"Sir, are you ok?" she asked, warily.

"Not really, no." Jack said, sinking to his knees. "Feel free to kill the bastard, Carter."

Fifth looked amazed, as if he couldn't believe his precious Samantha could hurt him. But Carter fired, time and time again, her face set and angry, her eyes diamond cold. Only when Fifth was reduced to pieces did she rush forward to the still collapsing Jack.

"Get Daniel and Teal'c and bring them here, with a stretcher." She ordered the marine behind her, who was looking slightly dumbfounded. "Contact the base, and get Dr Brightman ready at the foot of the ramp. Now, soldier!" she ordered, and the man left, double fast. Only once they were alone did Sam sink to her knees beside Jack.

"Are you ok?" she asked, worried. Jack was lying on the floor. She lifted up his head, and put it in her lap, anxious to keep him awake. He only lifted up a thumb in reply.

"Cassie told us you'd been captured by Fifth. I'm not sure how she knew, but..."

"But you came running." Jack said, softly. He was gazing up at her, smiling a little. She looked so fierce a moment before. If she'd been any kind of angel, it was the avenging kind. But now, alone with him, she was the gentle and sweet Sam the others thought they knew.

"I always will, you know that. No-one gets left behind."

"I know." he said. He wanted to sleep, but every time he closed his eyes, the visions of Pete and Sam that Fifth had created popped into his mind.

"I heard you." She said, looking down at him, her face shielded by her hair. "I heard what you said. Were you trying to trick Fifth?"

"No, I meant it." Jack told her, too tired to dissimulate. "Sorry."

"I'm not." She said, lying back, her back against the wall, Jack's head still on her lap. "This changes things." She said softly.

"What things?" he asked, unsure if this was good or bad.

"You and I things. I thought you didn't...that all that was long past." She stammered. "That's why I...there's a question I got asked earlier today."

"In the park?" he asked, tensing up. Fifth's visions were coming true.

"Yes, how did...never mind. I didn't give him an answer."

"Carter...what..." he turned his head to look at her, but she was smiling softly.

"I'll say no." she said, and she began to run her fingers through his hair, over and over again. It was incredibly soothing. She looked down at him, lying, bleeding, on her lap.

"I nearly lost you. I thought I had." She said, gently, so low he hardly heard her.

"Now you know how I feel most of the damn time." He said, only half-joking. She laughed.

"I may be facing a court martial when I get back." she told him. "I did a few things I shouldn't have to get here."

"Don't worry, your commanding officer fully supports your decision." He said gruffly. Then looking up at her looking absurdly like a lost little boy, he said, almost shyly,

"I just want to make sure I've got this straight. You and I...you...?"

"I think I do, yes." She said, with an air of wonder

"Carter..." he said warningly.

"Love you, yes Sir."

"Good, glad we got that straightened out. Might have been awkward later."

She laughed again, and bent down, and kissed him, on his grey hair. He snaked an arm round her neck, and held her there, for a second, then stroked her cheek with one finger, softly, adoringly. Time for kisses later. All that was important now was that she was his and he was hers. He'd find out later what emotional journey had bought her to this point. Right now he just wanted to lie here, in her lap, where he intended to lie for the rest of his life.

And when Daniel and Teal'c appeared, they found Jack, lying in Sam's lap, Sam running her fingers through his hair. Daniel took one look at them, at Sam's smile, and Jack's grin, and the way they gazed at each other, then turned to Teal'c.

"Well, I'd say Pete's screwed." Daniel said.

"Indeed." Teal'c only replied.


	5. The Reason

Long after they were gone, and Jack had disdained the stretcher and limped out supported by Sam, back to the SGC, and a happier life, the wall started to move. It rearranged, and reformed, until Fifth stepped out. He turned to the corner, where the shadow was.

"Well?" Fifth asked.

"Sir, are you ok?" the clone asked, but her intonation was harsh.

"Again." Fifth insisted.

"Sir, are you ok?" she asked, with more emotion.

"Again."

"Sir, are you ok?" she said again, and this time as she did, her clothes reformed on her body, until now, instead of the plain black replicator suit, she wore green BDU's.

"Perfect." Fifth said. "That was all you needed, to see her in action. My memories weren't enough, but I knew if I bought him here, she'd follow." His voice was thick with hatred. "Now, are you ready."

"I am ready." Said the replicated Colonel Carter.

THE END


End file.
